Monday Finds You
by ALC Punk
Summary: After Point of View, Samantha Carter-O'Neill deals with life.


Disclaimer: Stargate is owned by someone other than me. No money is being made from this venture into the realm of fan-fiction. If I owned these characters, do you THINK I'd be worried about next month's rent and whether I can get the oil changed on Moya? I think not.  
  
Spoilers: Point of View  
  
Summary: After coming back to her own reality, Samantha Carter-O'Neill survives.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Notes: I've arbitrarily named Mark's kid. Kids? Eh. One, two, three... The title belongs to an Eurythmics song which is... Fabulous. 'I Saved the World Today' is a work in ironic mastery... I went and sugar-coated lots. I haven't had any chocolate today. So. Sucks to be a realist.  
  
Challenge: This is in response to Jenn's Fic Challenge... Not sure if it quite works, but, hey. I never said I was perfect. ;)  
  
Archive: I have no idea what's out there. Take it if you want.   
  
Monday Finds You  
  
by Ana Lyssie Cotton  
  
It was just another day at Wal-Mart.   
  
Earth hadn't really changed that much, even after having been invaded by the Goa'uld. The Asgard came, they took care of everything. And then they left. The Stargate was now national news, international press. And nothing could stop the revolution.   
  
But still America remained the consumer capital of the world, people shopped till they dropped. And life went on.  
  
The sun rose, the moon rose, there were stars in the night's sky.   
  
And Samantha Carter-O'Neill cried herself to sleep every night.  
  
When her brother Mark first walked back into her life, she'd seen it as a godsend. But slowly, she began to realize that he just didn't understand her. Not the work she'd done for the last three years, not the work she continued to do. This time in truth instead of secrecy and lies.   
  
Now Mark grates at her. The man with the perfect wife and the perfect 2.4 children, the dog, the cat, the fish... And the sister who refuses to move on from loving a man who died to save his planet.  
  
Some part of her knows he's trying to care, understands that he wants her to pick up the pieces of her life and become the sister he remembers.  
  
Sam can't do that.   
  
It's too hard to put Jack O'Neill in a box in her heart and forget everything he did for her. Too hard to forget how he held her, how he kissed, although she's slowly forgetting how he tasted, felt--and that feels wrong somehow. A betrayal that cuts both ways.  
  
He wouldn't forget her.  
  
But she's forgetting him.  
  
'I can't forgive. So I forget as much as I can.'  
  
He'd said that, once. She can't believe he would have applied it to her, them.   
  
Or now. But the now is hers, not his.   
  
And so she tries to deal. She's a scientist, first and foremost. And there's still alien technology out there. The Asgard may have said they were protected, but no one believes that will last forever. And something the other Jack said to her reminds her that there could be other forces in this galaxy that could topple them as surely as the Goa'uld would.  
  
Her work leaves her little time for dealing with the realities of life, but sometimes she can take time out and do something mundane. Normal, even.  
  
Like this afternoon trip to Wal-Mart.   
  
Mark had handed her a list of stuff they needed, passed over one bouncy daughter, the keys to his SUV, and a handful of bills. And Sam found (to some horror) that there was something comforting about the chore. Perhaps it was Allie's excited dragging into the toy aisles (a good five minutes were spent discussing the merits of GI Joe versus Barbie versus the new Spider-Man action figures. Both decided Duke had way too much press, and that there should be more Flint action). Or the way other people in the store either watched her indulgently, or ignored her.  
  
Like she was really Sam's, or maybe that she was simply a happy child, and you just didn't see many of them.  
  
"Uncle Pete!" The child suddenly yelled in delight as Sam was placing laundry detergent into her basket.   
  
She looked up to find a man picking up her niece and swinging her through the air, laughing as she squealed. And, for once, she didn't simply dismiss this man as she had so many others. Even Charlie Kawalski couldn't break through her reserve. But there was something about the energy of this man. The way he seemed to not care how silly he looked as he played with Allie.  
  
He wasn't completely good looking. There was something a bit too normal about his features, too regular around the eyes, and maybe his lips were slightly too full. But there was intelligence there. And kindness, if his treatement of Allie was anything to go by.  
  
Realizing she was staring, Sam quickly looked down at her list before either could notice her.  
  
"Aunt Sam?"   
  
She smiled at her niece, "Yes, honey?"  
  
The girl straightened in the man's arms, every inch the dignitary (at 7, this was quite a feat). "This is Uncle Pete. Uncle Pete, this is Aunt Sam."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Aunt Sam." The man replied, a grin lifting his lips. His eyes smiled, too.  
  
"Uncle Pete." Sam inclined her head, then added. "I'm Sam Carter."  
  
"Pete Shanahan. I'd shake your hand, but it's occupied."  
  
"I noticed." A chuckle escaped her. And she suddenly wondered if she was supposed to be laughing with another man. Which struck her as a completely stupid statement, for once.   
  
This wasn't a betrayal of a true love that would never fade. This was simply life. Moving on and changing the way things were. The way they had to be, if she was to survive. And in a moment's flash of painful insight, Samantha Carter suddenly wondered if Jack would have kicked her ass for leaving herself in limbo for so long. Yeah.   
  
He probably would have said something like, 'For cryin' out loud, Carter! I'm dead! Move on!'  
  
Which, since he was dead, he couldn't.   
  
But she was alive. So she said it to herself.  
  
"Excuse me?" Pete Shanahan was beginning to get that, 'There is an insane woman in front of me' look that Jack used to get when she would spout off a hundred lines of technobabble at him. Usually to get him back for some silly slight.  
  
"Nothing." But it wasn't just nothing. It was life and love and colour and music and death and destruction and pain. "Hey, Allie, why don't you see if Uncle Pete wants to come home for dinner tonight?"  
  
The girl grinned, "Can he?"  
  
"May he." Sam corrected gently.  
  
"He may," Pete replied, grinning harder, "As long as Mark is not cooking."  
  
"I guarantee it."  
  
"Then," he half-bowed, "If the ladies would like help finishing their shopping, we can be on our way."  
  
And as Allie giggled up at him for the next hour, Samantha Carter-O'Neill made the conscious decision to let the past go. Her life might not be perfect, would probably never be quite 'right' again. But that was no reason not to enjoy what it had to offer. And Pete Shanahan had a nice ass.  
  
-finis- 


End file.
